


Transformation

by Odalis88



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odalis88/pseuds/Odalis88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins as Tiberius is summoned to Dominus' bedchamber, but he is no ordinary slave, just as Agron is no typical Roman. </p><p>Truth? This began as smut, plain and simple. The author had no idea when she started writing just how much they loved each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first piece of Nagron fiction I ever wrote and posted to LJ. I worried so much about keeping it in "Spartacus voice." Somehow I got to thinking about it last night and felt like revamping it a bit. Certain parts have been edited and rewritten from the original version.

Nasir drifted to his shared cell in a sleepy daze. Long hours of cleaning and tending to gladiator business had left him all but spent. It was all he could do to bathe himself before retiring briefly to his sleeping quarters. He stretched out onto his hard cot and shut his eyes. 

_Don’t fall asleep… don’t fall-_

“Tiberius!” A commanding voice called, startling him out of his stupor. “You are summoned.”

Nasir rose and tried to wake himself by slapping his own cheeks. It would not do well to be slow and dull-witted while in Dominus’ presence. 

The soldier brought him to Dominus’ bedchambers. After a quick jerk of Master’s head dismissing the guard, he and Dominus were alone. 

Agron’s breath stilled as Tiberius entered his room. Time had not dulled his body’s reaction to the small, lithe build that called to him with an unprecedented madness. In an effort to prevent fingers from reaching out to touch and caress that dark skin, he balled his hands into fists. 

All male slaves were shaved of head to make easier their upkeep. Tiberius was the exception. His long, black hair was too beautiful to shear. But he did not care for it tied back as it was, Agron preferred it a flowing mane around the strong lines of his face.

After Master dismissed the guard he rose from his plush bedding. Standing fully nude, Dominus made an imposing sight, especially the prominent erection he made no effort to hide. Nasir was not remotely tired now.

“Rid yourself of cloth and tend to me.” Agron encircled his cock with a loose hand, as if it were in any way unclear the manner in which Tiberius were to tend him. The slave dropped the slip of fabric covering his sex and fell to the floor before him. With his hands braced upon Agron’s thighs, he obediently took the length into his mouth. 

Agron made quick work of the tie binding Tiberius’ hair so as to thread his fingers through the thick locks. The slave had ways of unlacing him and soon Agron found himself caging Tiberius’ skull in his hands and thrusting firmly into his mouth. He pulled back just before release to spill on the slave’s lips and chin.

A tender hand caressed the dark cheek and a thumb rubbed seed across those full, enticing lips. “Nasir,” Agron whispered, his tone one of reverence and love.

***

As always, at the sound of his true name there was an immediate change in his demeanor. Nasir stood, wrapped arms around Agron’s neck, and pulled him down for a scorching kiss. His embrace was demanding and possessive of the larger man, as though it had been weeks since they had last held each other rather than days.

Tasting himself upon Nasir’s lips, Agron growled and wrapped his arms around the slighter man, pressing them closer together. His tongue ventured wide, cleaning Nasir’s lips and chin of his spend. Nasir all but mounted his hard, muscled body right there, but Agron would have them in comfort. 

He placed his hands beneath Nasir’s tight ass and carried him that way until he lay back on his bed with Nasir straddling his waist. 

Nasir settled himself on Agron’s lower stomach, bracing himself on his lover’s strong chest. He shivered at the power resting between his thighs. Agron’s hands trailed up his legs but he grasped the wrists and pinned them to the bed above Agron’s head. 

“Move not,” he commanded gently in Agron’s ear before taking the soft flesh between his teeth and nibbling. 

Chills spread over his entire body as Nasir licked and teased the skin from his neck to his chest, pausing to provide extra attention to his nipples. Hot tongue scorched and stabbed the pebbled areola, teeth scraping and tugging torturously. Agron was still half hard after his release and Nasir readily renewed his erection. 

“I would fuck your tight ass.” Agron thrust up with his hips to accent his words.

“Hmm,” Nasir pretended to consider. “Not yet.”

“I would feel your skin beneath my fingers. _Nasir!_ ”

“I’ll allow it.”

Agron grinned and resumed his hand’s path up Nasir’s thighs and down between the globes of his perfect ass. 

Almost absently, Nasir’s fingers flew up to trace the deep indentations made by Agron’s dimples. The larger man smiled often and Nasir had grown to desire seeing them almost as much as a physical touch. 

“Retrieve oil,” Nasir instructed. 

Twisting carefully so he would not dislodge Nasir above him, Agron felt around for a small, round vial. Nasir huffed impatiently and tugged the flask from Agron’s grasp. 

He poured oil onto his fingers and reached behind himself to breach his entrance. Nasir’s eyes did not draw away from Agron’s as he stretched and loosened his hole. 

“I love seeing your face when you prepare yourself for me. So honest, wanton, and innocent all at once.”

Shaking his head, Nasir countered, “Not so innocent.” Then he grasped Agron’s cock and slowly took it into his body. When he was fully seated, he began rocking his hips, drawing a growl from Agron.

Nasir smiled devilishly. “You wish to set pace?”

“I would if the sight of you above me did not harden cock to brink of pain. I do not trust myself to last.”

“You say that only because you know I am not yet ready to relinquish control. Sit back, _Dominus_ , and allow me to take my pleasure from you.”

“Fucking Syrian.” Agron grinned, and then groaned as Nasir tightened around him. “Call me by my name as you ride my cock.”

“Agron.” Nasir quickened his movements, holding out as long as he was able before asking the inevitable. “Agron! I want you to fuck me on my back.”

He received an arrogant smirk, but the larger man obliged him without further comment. Now on his back with legs resting on Agron’s shoulders, Nasir panted as Agron penetrated him more deeply. “Faster,” he ordered. 

Again, his command was met with a dimpled grin before the act carried out. Nasir wanted to hate that easy, smug smile, the way it made him hard and leaking with desire, and always unable to control himself. But he could no more find animosity toward the smile than he could the man who was, for all intents and purposes, his owner. His lover was unlike other Romans.

“Agron, kiss me.”

Complying at once, Agron plundered Nasir’s mouth deeply before kissing down the side of his neck. “I would feel you release around me.”

“Together.” Nasir stroked himself while Agron thrust still more deeply, bringing them both to climax. 

***

Agron cradled Nasir’s head, pillowed on his chest, and wed their fingers. “My father is dead,” he said without inflection. “He was found this morning. Died in his sleep.”

Nasir started at the words. He despised Agron’s father, the Master of his ludus who bought and owned him when he was still a child. But he would not punish Agron for the sins of his father; they were as different as day from night. “Apologies-”

“Save breath. You need not mourn him for my sake. I know your thoughts on this matter.”

“All the same.” Nasir reclaimed his place on Agron’s chest. “I can vaguely recall the death of my own father, the pain of loss from his absence. It is not something I wish for you to carry.”

“I held no loyalty for the fuck when he lived. I shall not invent a sorrow that fails to mature naturally in the wake of his death.” 

When Nasir did not comment, Agron continued. “I am the heir to his estate, with the power now to make change. I would have you by my side. Not simply as when you were summoned, but always.”

Nasir twisted to look him in the eye. “You know I come willingly, happily, to your bed, Agron. When we are alone, I am able to rise above the disparities of our stations. But to be continuously by your side, never be allowed to set independent eyes upon you or touch you of my own accord, to witness other’s gaze or hand upon you and be forced to hold tongue that would lash out at all who seek to claim you as their husband…No. My sanity would stand no chance against it.”

“Nasir!” Agron sat up and pulled the other man with him. “You mistake intent! It is not my desire for you to become body slave, at my command at all hours. I would have you freed and wish for you to remain at my side, forever my equal.” 

Before he could consider or censer his actions, Nasir kissed him hard. Then he thought to what Agron’s statement meant. “I could never hold elevated rank above those I call brother.” 

“I’ll free everyone,” Agron muttered against Nasir’s throat. He would trade his entire house and fortune if it meant the Syrian’s happiness. 

“The ludus’ patron would never allow it. Some of the best gladiators in all of Rome train in this house.”

“We’ll run away together,” Agron persisted, his words ending in a sharp intake of breath as Nasir palmed him to renewed hardness. No matter how tired he was, his body recognized and responded eagerly to his man. 

“As heir, you have responsibility to oversee your father’s holdings, including supervision of this ludus.”

Agron scoffed. “As if there are not a hundred men I could produce to readily take my place. You forget, also, that I am not the only heir, simply the eldest. My brother Duro would receive all in my absence.”

Nasir arranged Agron onto his stomach and began a slow massage. 

“Do not seek to distract from matter at hand. Why do you challenge the thought of becoming a free man? Or do you wish to be a man free of me?” Agron paused as that painful notion stabbed him. “I stand by my word. You will be free and free to choose. Remain with me or seek fortune elsewhere. Whatever your decision, you shan’t want for anything, I’ll see to it.”

Sitting on Agron’s upper thighs, Nasir dug deeply into the hard muscles of his lower back. “I have no wish to be parted from your side, the very thought is offensive and unbearable to me. I wish only to ensure that the choice and its ramifications are what you intend. You know what my duties were before you intervened with your father. What will people say when they see you arm in arm with the whore of Capua?”

“I can give two shits what anyone thinks of me. I would have you with me forever, until you grow weary of me. I can think of nothing sweeter than to wake to your face every morn, for you are more beautiful than the dawn. It guts me when I give thought to you remaining a slave. I would no more see my beloved brother bought and sold like a piece of meat.”

Nasir stretched out atop Agron’s back, covering him completely. He smoothed the short, brown hair at the nape of Agron’s neck and kissed him chastely. “Then never shall I be parted from you, my love. And never will I tire of you.”

A hand caressed Agron’s ass. Knowing what Nasir was asking, Agron whispered, “I would have you claim me as you have ensnared my heart.” He rubbed his erection against the bedding, having grown even harder in anticipation of what was to come. 

Nasir sat up to prepare Agron for penetration but was rendered immobile at what he discovered.

Agron’s dimples flashed. “I have already prepared myself for you.”

The former slave thought his grin would split his face. “I have not loved any as arduously as I do you, my fucking Roman.”


End file.
